
VIRGINIA 



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AND OTHER POEMS 



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MARION FORSTER GILMORE 




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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



VIRGINIA 

A Tragedy 



OTHER POEMS 



MARION FORSTER GILMORE 




JOHN p. MORTON & COMPANY 

Incorporated 
LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY 

1910 



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COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY 

MARION FORSTER GILMORE 



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TO MY FATHER 

Years can not cloud the light of your clear eyes, 

Steadfast and bright with high integrity; 

Nor rob your spirit of the strength that lies 

On those firm lips; nor dim the purity 

Of a high soul, which bears the shield of Love 

Untarnished, as it was upon the day 

When One, with tender faith, desired to prove 

Her "Royal Knight," and gave her heart away. 

Bear her bright shield, and smile, as years roll by — 

Years that have cro^jied you with the priceless crown 

Of steadfast faith and worldwide charity — 

Until you reap the joy that you have sown, 

In that near land, where, with a light divine, 

The eyes you love through all the ages shine. 



[Thanks are due to the proprietors of The Cosmo- 
politan Magazine and Leslie's Weekly, for their courtesy 
in allowing the republication herein of a number of poems 
which have previously appeared in issues of their copy- 
righted magazines.] 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Virginia i 

Stewardship 6i 

The Sea Gull --- 62 

Mt. Vernon - - 63 

My Mother 64 

The Cradle Song -64 

Out of the Dark 65 

Niobe 66 

To the Genius of Death, by Canova 66 

To the Winged Victory of Samothrace 67 

Beatrice Triumphant 68 

The Call of the Irish Sea 68 

The Lion of Lucerne 69 

Sonnet to Niagara Falls 70 

The Lost Heart 70 

Is He Not Mine ? 71 

Two Gifts 71 

The Moon flower 72 

Three Kisses 72 

A Song of the West 73 

To Esther 74 

The Thrush 75 

The Light of the Star 76 

The Message of the Pines 77 

The Lost Sunbeam --- 78 

Heritage 79 



VIRGINIA 



A Tragedy 



CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY 
Appius Claudius, 

Chief of the Ten and lawgiver of the Romans. 

Marcus Claudius, 

His client. 

Oppius, 

One of the Ten. 

ViRGINIUS, 
A Roman centurion; a plebeian. 

ICILIUS, 
A tribune of the commons and lover to Virginia. 

SiCINIUS, 
A plebeian soldier and an enemy of the Decemvirs. 

horatius, 

Galba, 

Marius, 

hortensius, 

Four Roman citizens. 

Tiberius, 

A boy of noble birth; brother to Cornelia. 

The Ten Decemvirs. 
A Porter. 

%• 
Virginia, 

Daughter of Virginius. 

Cornelia, 

A patrician lady, secretly betrothed to Sicinius. 

Camilla, 

Nurse to Virginia. 

Julia, 

A maid. 

A Sibyl. 

A Slave Girl in the House of Appius Claudius. 

Soldiers, Lectors, Women, Rabble, and Serfs. 

Setting — Rome. Time — During Supremacy of the Deceynvirs. 

ACT I — Scene I — The Forum. Scene II — A Street in Rome. 

ACT II — Scene I— The House of Appius. Scene II — Women's Apartments 

in the House of Virginius. Scene III — Garden in House of Virginius. 

Scene IV — Home of Cornelia. 
ACT III — Scene I — The Forum. Scene II — Home of Virginius. Scene III — 

The Forum. 



VIRGINIA 

A Tragedy 



V 



ACT I. 

Scene I — The Forum. 

A multitude of citizens gathered therein. Disturbance 
shown among them hy sullen looks and murmur- 
ings. Four citizens, two in patrician and two in 
plebeian garments, confer together. 

1st Git. Enough, enough! I see we all agree 
Upon this common cause of our grievance ; 
Our ranks, our unmixed blood, our differences. 
Are all forgotten — nay, methinks they shall 
In time together mingle when our blood 
Shall be poured forth in this most righteous cause. 

2nd at. As ever art thou eloquent, Marius, 
And just; Brutus himself were not more so. 
Patrician and plebeian, equalized 
By common woe, together whisper menace 
To those who work such havoc as, indeed, 
Was never known in Rome until to-day. 

3rd at. Ye two are nobles ; we, the commons are ; 
Yet all are leveled by the grief we feel 
For Rome, our mother city, who so low 
Hath fall'n. Hark! the multitude itself 
Is wroth as we, yet, e'en as we, it lacks 
The courage needful for this fierce occasion. 



VIRGINIA 

4th Git. Ay, list indeed! Mark how the murmur 
swells ! 

[They turn, and follow with their eyes the 
gaze of the Roman moh. 
Voices of lictors (without). Make way, ye Romans, 

way for the noble Ten! 
3rd at. Pah ! they announce them like to royal kings ! 
1st at. Tyrants are ceremonious to the letter. 
Multitude. All hail to the lawgivers ! Life and peace 
Unto the Ten I 

2nd at. Jove's lightning strike them down, 
The turncoats! Ah, the cowards and the curs! 
Perfidious gang of fawners ! Do they thus 
Forget their wrongs in the wrongdoer's presence, 
Or veil them with that slime, false loyalty? 

[Enter the Ten Decemvirs, each preceded 
iy tivelve lictors armed with fasces. 
4th at. Lo ! the presumption ! How each lictor bears 
Amongst his rods an axe to indicate 
That life and death lie in his master's word. 
Once was each tyrant pleased with one attendant 
The way to clear — now must they number twelve. 

[The Decemvirs pause a space, the while 
their leader, Appius Claudius, ad- 
dresses the assembled citizens. 
Appius. Ye Roman citizens ! Unto our ears 
Murmurings hath arrived laden with strife ; 
And though this day ye have protested loud 
Your loyalty, and hailed us with acclaim, 
Ye seem but ill-content. This must not be. 
We have been lenient to every class — 
What ye demand in reason ye receive. 
Ye called for written laws, and lo! they hang 



VIRGINIA 

Within the Forum that all eyes may read. 

Yet, mark ye ! Read not only, but obey, 

Else blood shall pour in torrents on these stones. 

[Low, angry murvmir. 
What! would ye show your teeth, ye nobles brave, 
Would bare your fangs, ye plebeian dogs! 
Your teeth are drawn, patricians, and your fangs 
Are dull, indeed, ye curs ! [A hissing protest. 

What, open schism? 
Ho, lictors, strike ! Ah ! would ye calmer grow ? 
Lictors, enough! Now must we on. Our time 
Is pressing. [As he is on the point of departing with 
his colleagues, his gaze is arrested by 
the passing of a girl, clad all in white, 
attended by her nurse, through the 
Forum. 
(To a companion.) Now, by the ghost of Ixion, behold 
Yon perfect vision of most perfect beauty. 
Enchanting grace ! Exquisite featuring ! 
Youth lightly shadowed by young womanhood! 
My passions, Oppius, are all awake, 
Aflame and spreading fast! Why, I would burn 
All Rome to own her, touch her, feel her near; 
I would receive the curses of the gods, 
Be hurled to lowest Hades, and endure 
The tortures set for Tantalus himself 
If I might call her mine. Her kiss would prove 
Sufficient food for me, her liquid eyes 
Would quench my thirst if I should look within 
And see the tears or draw the starry light 
Into my soul! 0, Appius, ye are stricken! 

Oppius. Peace, peace, mine Appius, the maid is 
gone — 



VIRGINIA 

Thy looks are wild, thy features are convulsed 
With passion. 

1st at. See, Hortensius, yon man? 
What ails him? Like a madman is his gaze, 
And horrid is his flaming countenance. 

Oppius. Come, brother, come, my colleague, let's 
away, 

Appius. Hands off, 0, foolish man, for I am dead 
To protest. I have been by lightning stricken. 

Oppius. It is, indeed, too passionate to be 

The wound from Eros' feathered shaft. 

Appius (groaning). Ah! God! 

Where has she gone? I can not see her face 
Nor matchless form within the dreary crowd. 
Women I spy in plenty. What a mob 
Of uncouth shapes and homely featuring 
These females are! She was a Cynthia, 
And all beside her, hideous and bold 
Bacchantes. I'll a lictor straight despatch, 
To seize on her, for she belongs to me. 

Oppius. Nay, fool! Rash fool! Thou art not 
Jupiter 
In power, that thou darest thus to seize. 
In open daylight, objects of thy lust, 
Wlien they are daughters of free citizens. 
Some shadow of excuse must herald such 
Bold actions, lest the rabble rise in arms. 
As in the days of fair Lucretia! 
Thou canst presume, and yet in thy presumption 
Play the sly part of virtue, ay, and justice. 
Nor seem a mad and bigoted abductor. 
I know the maid ; a blameless child of one 
Virginius, a soldier and a pleb. 
Wait, wait, and on the morrow form thy plans, 



VIRGINIA 

But for this moment let the matter rest, 

If thou art prudent. Come, let's on; the mob 

Follows thy gaze, noting thy steadfast look. 

Appius. Speed morrow then. For I am now no 
better 
Than madman; I, who hold the whole of Rome 
Under my thumb, am raving only for 
Nor heaven nor earth, nor power, nay, nor fame, 
But for the eaptivation of a maid — 
But for Virginia. Onward, let us on! 
I'll march into the grim, gray gates of eve 
And meet the morrow ere it hath arisen, 
Tear down the portals of the night and force 
My way into the chamber where the morn 
Dozes, a lovely slothful soul of hope. 
And seizing on her, madly I'll demand 
Virginia ! [Exeunt. 

Scene II — A Street in Rome. 

Enter Marius and Horatius, two patricians. 

Marius. He dared ! he dared ! he dared ! 

Horatius. And will dare more, 

Until Rome wakens from her lethargy 
And is herself again. 

Marius. Till then we wait, 

Enduring insult, tyranny, from him, 
The common enemy of nobleman 
And pleb. 

Horatius. Alas ! once was he common friend 
To both — our lawgiver ; what changed him so ? 

Marius. A worm of pride that gnawed into his heart, 
A blast of fiery desert wind that dried. 



VIRGINIA 

Withered and seared his noble disposition. 
To-day he is a monster, where he was 
But yesterday a leader and a god, 

Horatius. He angered the patricians by his show 
Of democratic policy; the plebs 
By barring intermarriage 'twixt the two 
Opposing classes ! [Enter Virginius and Icilius. 

Virginius. Blessings, health to you! 
Good wishes of a Roman unto Romans. 

Horatius (hitterly). Say rather, helpless, sullen, 
brooding curs ! 
"We are no more — methinks thou art no more; 
Nor even thou, Icilius, our tribune. 
There are no free, courageous sons of Rome, 
But victims only, cowed beneath the lash 
Of the Decemvirs— curses on their heads ! 

Virginius. Methinks I'm not the dog that thou 
hast said, 
For 'tis my part and wish to play the man. 
The name of Appius I do despise, 
And only bide my time to bury it 
Deep in the soil, along with him who bears 
Its weight. Although I will not fling myself 
Upon the altar of Unreason as 
A bootless sacrifice, yet am I still 
Nor dog, nor worm, but one who waits and prays, 
Nor prays alone, but puzzles out his plan 
Of action. No, nor plans alone, but strives; 
And striving, must achieve, unless the hand 
Of sudden Death come in to tear the web. 
Friends, we are hard pressed and we pant in pain. 
Yet tyrants, howsoever strong, are still 
"Weaker than Justice and are shorter-lived 



VIRGINIA 

Than Liberty, the queen whom Justice serves. 
Because our wrongs are heavy must we brood, 
And chafe, and curse our stars and Appius? 
What M'ar was ever closed successfully 
With sullen warriors and men untrained, 
Unready or undone by foul Despair? 

Icilius. Thou hast inspired me and curbed my wrath, 
Which held in it no reason, all unbound, 
Ready to leap a lion on its prey. 
Ay, there's a time for all things. I shall wait, 
Knowing, Virginius, that thy words are true. 
Wisdom, the gods be thanked, hath never flowed 
Forth from thy lips in words of honeyed sounds, 
Nor yet in pompous phrases burdened down 
With ponderous eloquence, but bold and frank, 
Shining as bright and ringing forth as true 
As thy good sword that thou hast borne so well 
In camp, palestra, or in battle-field. 

Virginius. My words are bold, for I am full of grief 
At men 's delinquency and heavy souls ; 
Frank — ay ; because 'tis late to talk in riddles 
Or metaphors, that veil the precious truth 
Within; shining with fervor, ringing true. 
Because the cause I do uphold is true 
As life and death is real. 

Horatius. Thine eloquence 

Is worthy of a better hearing than 
This little company. I would that thou 
Wouldst lead us into action, noble pleb. 

Virginius. My duties are at present with mine own — 
With her, my fair ewe-lamb ; when she becomes 
The spouse of this our friend and our tribune, 
Virginius shall owe himself to none. 
But feel compelled the Commonwealth alone 



VIRGINIA 

To serve. And here's my hand in oath that I 
Shall serve it well ! The gods help Appius ! 

[Enter Sicinius, in civilian garments. 

Marius. Greetings, Sieinius, and health to thee! 

Sic. And Heaven's favor unto you, my friends. 
How now! All deep in sombre conference? 

Icilius (impetuously). Sicinius! What curse hath 
come to Rome, 
That bends her proud and regal head beneath 
The yoke of shame? The collar of the serf 
Hangs heavy round her haughty neck. Ye gods! 
The mightly Romulus, methinks, must find 
The grave a cell that keeps him from his Rome; 
How must his mighty spirit chafe when he 
Receiveth tidings from the newly dead, 
Concerning this, his city, now so low 
Amid the dust of Wrong and Bigotry! 
Tell us, thou man of action, what bold move 
We needs must make. Oh ! be our CEdipus ! 

Horatius. Hist, noble tribune ! Favor silence. These 
Are times of peril ; east thou Caution 's die. 

Icilius (amazed). What! knowest thou not this man, 
Sicinius ? 
He who has bearded all the noble Ten, 
He whose brave words of indignation ring 
From hill to hill of Rome ? Sicinius ! 

Horatius (sullenly). I have been absent from the 
town these twelve 
Long moons, nor know I all that thou dost know. 

Icilius. Why, man, look not so sour and so sad. 

Virginius. Peace, youths ! Sicinius hath but little 
chance 
To speak his mind. I beg of thee that thou, 



VIRGINIA 

Good friend, expound thy views as to these days 
Of tyranny, for Romans are at bay. 

Sic. If I should speak, then would I speak myself 
Into my grave; so twist mine earnest tongue 
As soon would wring it from its fevered roots. 
Mine eyeballs blind themselves with fiery tears 
Of love for Rome ; my life would withered be 
"With all the curses breathing forth, aflame 
With hate for Appius ! Oh, ye gods ! in what 
Have we outraged you that we now are cursed 
With such a blight as Famine never cast 
Over the fields of plenty, withering 
Alike the grain and the wild wayside bloom, 
Sweeping across the vast, bright lands of peace. 
And leaving staring Ruin in its way? 
Oh ! Rome, thou much-wronged child of Romulus, 
That I might break the seals from off thine eyes. 
And place a flaming sword within thy hand, 
A watchword in thine ear — "Endure for her 
Who is thy rightful mistress. Liberty." 
A battle-cry upon thy glowing lips, 
"Onw^ard!" A prayer within thy mighty heart, 
And prophecy to stir thy godlike soul 
To action. But the times are ripening! [A pause. 

Could I relate thy wrongs, I would not cease. 
Nor spare myself, but speaking, sink to earth. 
Worn with the task. Yet who can number them 
That are as numberless as Heaven's stars? 
I say, as I have said to you before. 
We Romans will again secede, again 
March, in a body, to the Sacred Mount, 
And threaten as of old another Rome, 
A nobler Rome, a Rome unbound and free. 
To found thereon, or else a revolution, 



VIRGINIA 

Bloody and merciless and full of horrors, 
Shall ravage Rome, but we be satisfied. 
The fire and the sword hath ready tongues; 
They fawn not to the great, nor spare the high, 
They lick and bite nor fail in eloquence. 
So, to the fire and the sword must we 
Resort; for city, home, and cherished ones 
Demand that guilty blood, as a libation, 
Be poured in answer to the blood of Rome, 
Which crieth to her children from the ground! 

[Exeunt. 



10 



VIRGINIA 

ACT II. 

Scene I — The House of Appius. 

The curtain, rising, discovers a bondmaid in the center 
of a spacious court, filling her pitcher at the foun- 
tain. It is midday, and the light streams down from 
above, flooding the entire space with radiance. The 
woman sings in an undertone, as she turns to ivater 
the roses twined around the columns in the back- 
ground. Enter Marcus Claudius. He approaches 
the maiden, leisurely. 

Marc. Ah! pretty one! Fortune has favored me! 
I enter in due time to proffer aid. 

Slave. Nay, shame on thee, a man free-born, to thus 
Address a bondmaid, when there is no need. 

Marc. Thy humble mien is fitting, girl, but I 
Am modest, and, thus far, will graciously 
Demean myself. 

Slave. Demean thyself, indeed! 

I only mocked thee, fool ; thy proffered aid 
I scorn. Low-born plebeian, who art thou, 
To set thyself above a child of kings ? 

Marc, (angrily). Ha! Have a care! Take heed! 
Thy saucy tongue 
Eludes thee, mischief hungry. Fairest slave, 
But for that very fairness which is thine, 
I'd have thee lashed by him who favors me! 

Slave (wheeling about in scorn). Who shelters, who 
supports, who uses thee, 

11 



VIRGINIA 

And for his own vile ends ! Lends thee his brains, 
His power and knowledge for thy petty, sly 
Returns. He, fierce and false; thou, mean and small; 
He, merciless; thou, only Marcus' friend — 
And both unscrupulous as Mercury, 

Marc, (furiously). Thou art too scathing in thy 
judgment, damsel! 

Slave. Nay, I am mild to what thou dost deserve. 

Marc. How darest thou, a slave, to judge me so? 

Slave. King Tarquin, called Superbus, or the Proud, 
He was mine ancestor. And I, alone 
Left of his line, in bondage languish. Thou, — 
What canst thou boast of? Of the blood of plebs. 
Yet lower e'en than they who gave thee birth; 
Despised of all, for thou art neither slave, 
Nor free; thou hangest slothlike on the skirts 
Of mighty men, that they may represent 
Thy cause — support, succor, and plead for thee. 
In gratitude for thy poor services. 
Avaunt! Fawner and client, touch me not! 

[She spurns him when he would approach 
her, and haughtily departs. 

Marc, (gazing after her). Adieu, thou helpless 
scorner, chained despiser. 
Thy tongue hath sought to whip me sore — in vain. 
A client knows not shame nor injured pride. 
Nor is he haughty, for the blood of kings 
Heats not his veins. So Marcus, too, is low, 
Ready to stoop to aught, however base. 
To gain his ends. But triumph over triumphs ! 
Marcus will issue forth the conqueror. 
Flushed with his victory, while other men 
Lie low and bite the dust because they clung 
To honor! He, clean void of conscience, sucks 

12 



VIRGINIA 

The sweets of life down to their sweetest dregs. [Pauses. 
Ha! who is that? My master hath returned! 

[Peers through a curtained doorway on 
the right. As he retreats, Appius 
Claudius enters hurriedly. His toga is 
disordered, his countenance aflame with 
wine and passion. He throws himself 
heavily upon a couch. 
Appius. Wine, fetch some wine ! At once, with no 

delay ! 
Marc, (aside). And drunk as Bacchus at his 
wedding-feast ! 
(Aloud.) "Which kind, my lord? 

Appius. Falernian! Mark ye, dilute it not! 
Marc, (aside). I need no prophet's eyes to see his end. 
To Bacchus I assign him with due care. [Exit. 

Appius (in hoarse undertone). I looked but once, 
and, looking, she was gone. 
Leaving me reeling, drunk with loveliness. 
I have imbibed deeply this day in wine, 
Yet hath it less intoxicating power 
Than hath a tremor of her lashes or 
A flutter of her garments ! I am struck. 
And heavily ! [He groans and clasps his head with his 
hands. 
Virginia ! Elements 
Are in thy name — tempest and burning flame! 
My soul is tossed as though it were at sea. 
My brain is floating on the vacant air, 
My heart consumed in everlasting fire ! 

[Enter Marcus, hearing a gohlet and an 
amphora. 
Marc. Thy rare Falernian. 
Appius. Fill me the cup. [Drinks. 



VIRGINIA 

Sweet solace and indulgence of the gods, 

Unequaled nectar, give me satisfaction! 

Better to me this pleasure than the sight 

Of fair Elysium, Such ecstasy 

As is the privilege and portion of 

Souls freed from Hades and its rack and wheel 

And snatched to Heaven, can no sweeter be 

Than is mine ecstasy, when wafted on 

The summer zephyr, comes this breath, divine, 

Of nectar and ambrosia in one. 

Virginia, to myself, to thee, to Love, 

I drink! And now, my Marcus, sit thee down! 

I would confer with thee. 

31 arc. (seats himself). What is thy will? 

Appiiis. Marcus, this morn I made my way in state 
Through Rome — and, in the market-place, beheld 
A sight that hath undone me for this day. 
My heart hath slipped its leash and now is set 
Hard on the trail, not to be turned aside. 

Marc. What vision hath the gods vouchsafed thee, 
then? 

Appius. 'Twas more than vision, thanks to Vulcan be, 
Who did create that mortal styled a woman, 
At once a snare, at once a perfect boon ; 
At once a curse, at once a lasting blessing. 
It was a maid, a lowly, mortal maid, 
A maid of mean plebeian birth as well. 
Yet beautiful as though she had arisen 
From out the golden heart of some fair rose. 
Or drowsy, dreamy, tempting, fresh and fair, 
Had issued, shyly, from the troubled depths 
Of rock-bound spring, a nymph but newly born. 
And shrinking from the glances of the morn. 
Virginia, child of one Virginius, 

14 



VIRGINIA 

Centurion of courage and renown, 

She burst upon me like a revelation 

Unto a prophet. She is mine as sure 

As are the stars possessions of the Night. 

She '11 have no will but mine, no choice but mine ; 

She'll yield her body unto me, until 

I find the chance to win her heart and soul. 

I'll hold her and I'll kiss her heart away; 

I'll chain her soul to mine with links of gold. 

But whether she shall ever love me true 

I little care, so that her lips are mine, 

So that I daily touch her hands and feel 

Her dusky hair blow cloudlike 'gainst my cheek. 

Marcus, thou art the man to work my weal, 

By aiding me in this, mine enterprise. 

Marc. Wliat ! Shall I play the game and thou receive 
The winnings? 

Appius (haughtily). Ay, assuredly. 0, pause, 
And pausing, spe thyself in honest light. 
Thou art my client; thou to me dost owe 
Thy safety, standing, possibly thy life. 
I know the law — I made the law, the while 
Thou canst not read a letter; as a pleb 
Few rights are thine — those few I gave thy class 
At the expense of the patrician favor. 
Break with me, and thou 'It break thy fortunes, ope 
Thy chest of troubles, like the silly maid 
"Who brought untold misfortunes on herself 
And on the world. Assist me and thou 'It gain 
My favor, keep my needful, strong protection. 

Marc. Enough ! I follow thee and will obey. 

Appius. E'en to the letter? 

Marc. To the letter, lord. 

15 



VIRGINIA 

Appius. Then hearken. Choose some morning, soon 
or late, 
And hasten to the market-place. The maid 
Receiveth schooling there. When she appears, 
Spring forward boldly, seize her by the arm, 
(And yet be not too rude in thy demeanor) ; 
When all the multitude around demand 
An explanation, say to them that she 
Was born of a slave-woman in thy house, 
Ere thou a client had become. And add 
That she had been in secret borne away, 
And, by the wife of one Virginius, 
Claimed as a child; her own at birth had died, 
And he, Virginius, kept in ignorance, 
Grossly deceived, believeth it his flesh 
And blood. The tale is wild ; no proof hast thou, 
Nor witnesses ; and yet it is enough 
Seeing that I control the Romans as 
The Fates control the lives of mortal men. 
And need the barest shadow of excuse 
To work my will — I, who am autocrat ! 
Assume a righteous air, if that doth lie 
Within the limits of thy doubtful, rare 
Accomplishments. When they protest, then say 
"To Appius for justice I will go," 
And leave the rest to me. 

Marcus. Ay, leave to thee 

The cowdng of the Roman mob, for that 
Lieth within the limits of thy rare. 
Doubtful accomplishments. So let it be. 
I'll serve thee well — mil my returns be worthy 
The peril of my venture? 

Appius. Also leave 

That matter unto me. 

16 



VIRGINIA 
Scene II — Women's Apartments in the House of 

' ViRGINIUS. 

Style of ornaments and hangings very simple. Virginia, 
bending over her nurse, who is seated in a chair, 
appears to have just completed the arrangement of 
the latter' s hair. 

Virg. Nay, now, let be ! 'Tis most becoming so. 
What! would 'st thou call't presumptious to assume 
The style of headdress worn by noble ladies? 
Foolish Camilla! Thou art nobler far 
Than many score fine dames, however high 
They hold their heads or wear their tresses — so ! 
Oh, 'tis entrancing! Stay, I have not done. 

Camilla (groaning in mock despair). Alack! was 
ever nurse so harried by 
A maid as silly and as sweet as thou! 

Virg. No, never ! for I 'm sweet because I 've kissed 
Thy kind old cheek so oft and have imbibed 
Therefrom the sweetness only found in thee. 
And I am silly — I suppose, because 
The gods have made me so. Now, turn about 
Thy head. How white thy hair of late hath grown! 

Camilla. Alack ! mine age is on me ! 

Virg. (passionately caressing her). Nay, not sol 
Or if 'tis so, I love each silver thread. 
Kiss me, Camilla — but I must proceed 
With this thy toilet. Now is it complete. 
Oh, Jupiter! it is a work of art! 
Sweet nurse, thou wilt amaze my father when 
He catches sight of thee. [Seizes a mirror. 

Come, view thyself. 
'Tis not ill-done, for I have marked the style. 



VIRGINIA 

i 
Shake not thy head at me, I prithee now. 

I only sport with thee. Look not so grave. 

Camilla. Sweet one, because thou art so gay to-day, 
I fear to-morrow thou wilt be in tears. 
Excess of spirits bears excess of grief. 
Thou'rt young and fair as Hero; but to her 
Misfortune came and loss and heavy woe ! 

Virg. Now, thou remindest me of Wisdom's owl — 
Croak not so somberly. Thou who art one 
Whose heart is ever genial with mirth. 
Wrong 'st Nature to cast shadows over youth. 

Camilla (drawing Virginia to her tenderly). My 
little love, I would not seem to sigh; 
Ever have I despised a sorry face, 
A gloomy or foreboding disposition. 
Thou hast most aptly said that I to-day 
Belie my character. Forgive! Forget! 

Yirg. (pouting). Forget, thou croaking raven of 
despair ? 
Thou dost expect too much. I may forgive. 
But not forget. What ailest thee to-day? 
Art thou not ill or weary with thy tasks? 
We'll make thy labor lighter, and thy cares 
As to the household now shall rest on me. 

Camilla. Not so, sweet child. There is no need for 
that. 
I am not ill nor weary, nay, nor sad, 
But fearful and in dread of hidden woe. 
What may the morrow bring to thee, my babe, 
Or to thy father, or thy lover? What, 
I can not see, but only feel and dread. 

Yirg. Camilla ! Something surely ails thee now. 
Oh ! I am mystified and overcome 
By thy prophetic words, thy drear {x,ddress, 

18 



VIRGINIA 

And I would probe thy meaning deeply, lest 

A vision should have warned thee of a flood 

Of coming tribulation. Gentle nurse, 

Hast visited of late the oracle? 

Speak ! Speak to me ! Speak to Virginia ! Say ! 

Tell me, nor torture me upon the rack 

Of fear and dread prolonged. 

Camilla (slowly). If it v/ere aught 

That I might put to thee or e'en myself 
In syllables, I'd speak. But syllables 
Are clumsy things. Words are inanimate, 
Dull, helpless weapons, powerless unless 
The thoughts are present skillfully to wield 
The blades. Then cut and thrust they mightily, 
Ready to wound, or e'en with menace kill. 
I know not what I fear. I know not why 
Nor wherefore. Has the gift of second-sight 
Been by the gods this day on me bestowed? [A pause. 
I seem to see great sorrow brought about 
By shameless wrong ; I seem to see a cloud, 
Laden with anguish which may soon descend 
In burning drops on Rome, where'er I turn. 
"Who are the victims I can not discover. 
But when I close mine eyes from out the black 
That blinds them, lo! a knife like lightning sent 
By Jove flashes upon me — and is gone ! 

Virg. (sohhing). Alas! My joy is fled and all is 
gloom. 
Sure 'tis some peril scowling o'er my father. 
Mayhap e'en now he lieth in the camp, 
Struck down by men who envy him his fame ! 
Oh! horrid thought! most dread, most cruel thought! 

Camilla (arousing herself with effort). Nay, weep 
not, my Virginia; I regret 

19 



VIRGINIA 

Those vague emotions which are doubtless false 
Deceiving dreams, sent me by Mercury, 
Who oft delights in filling mortal minds 
With gray forebodings, as thou art aware. 
Quick! Kiss me, child, and dry those silly tears. 
Lo! now methinks I hear thy father's step. 

Virg. (joyously). Father! mine own dear father! 
(Voice of Virginius without.) Little one ! 
No welcome at the door? 

[Virginia runs to the curtained doorway, 
through which her father enters, and 
flings her arms in tearful ecstasy around 
his neck. 
Virginius. What! tears, dear heart? 
Virg. But smiles will clear them soon. I feared 
for thee — 
Most foolishly, yet ne 'ertheless, I feared. 

Virginius. Most foolishly, indeed, my dark-haired 
Psyche, 
Thou pure-embodied soul, my spirit's light. 
Look up, dear child, and kiss thy father fond. 
He's wearied and he needs his heart's restorer. 

[The two come forward, he in his shining 
armor, she nestling hirdlike in the shel- 
ter of his arm. 
My daughter, I have seen leilius. 
Virg. Ah ! Father ! 

Virginius (mockingly). "Ah! Father!" Ay, I 
saw him. Me he held 
Firmly, besieging me with queries, all 
Concerning thee. How had Virginia fared 
While he was absent? — the presumptions boy! 
Couldst thou fare otherwise than well with me? 
And then with eager eyes he questioned as 

20 



VIRGINIA 

To thy remarks, thy thoughts concerning him, 

Thy attitude to things in general. 

Where did Virginia spend her days? In school? 

Was she by chance affrighted at the state 

Of Rome since he had left her ? Like unto 

A feverish flame, he reached on every side. 

Hungry for news of his Virginia. 

Virg. (dreamily). My Love! My Love! Mine own 
Icilius ! 
Oh ! gentle gods, my happiness exceeds 
My worth. But yet, amen ! So let it be. [Exeunt. 



Scene III — A Garden overgrown with Roses. 

Enter Virginia and Icilius. Twilight deepening into 
night. 

Icilius. This is an eve of witchery, an hour 
Alluring, swelled with love and weighted down 
With dreams. 

Virg. A time when all our best ideals 
Are perfected. Reality is dead, 
Deep-buried in her grave, and Heaven and Earth, 
Swayed by the wand of sweet Imagination, 
Languish beneath the velvet robes of Night. 

Icilius. And 'tis a night more fair than when Dian 
Cast lustre on the young, unwitting face 
Of that deep-slumbering boy, Endymion. 

Virg. Oh ! happy boy ! a goddess kissed thy hair, 
Mused o'er thy brows, and sighed above thy lips. 

Icilius. Thrice happy man, who treasures human 
love, 
And humbly may accept that precious gift, 

21 



VIRGINIA 

A mortal maiden's heart, nor sigh for more. 

There is no more, nor anything so fair, 

As such a dear possession. Happy he, 

Who can, though but one instant, close and warm, 

Hold woman's form, or kiss the starry light 

Into her eyes, the blood into her cheeks! 

And such a man, Virginia, am I. 

Virg. (shyly). Not once in life, dear Love, but 
many times. 

Icilius. Not once, not twice, not thrice, but many 
times. 

Virg. What might lies in the warmth of kisses given ! 
Like wine they strengthen, quicken, stimulate. 
Like flame they warm, like moonlight satisfy, 
Like stars uplift above the common world. 
Dear Love, I am a weak and fearful child 
And need my wine, my flame, my moon and stars. 
To fit me for the years that lie ahead. 

Icilius. Thou lookest pale, in need of stimulant — 

[Kisses her. 
Once more, sweetheart ! Nay, wouldst thou draw away ? 

Virg. Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing 
sounds 
Of stealthy listeners. 

Icilius. Virginia, 

Rest here upon this bed of roses. They 
Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death," 
That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline, 
And let thy tresses, darker than the night. 
In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek, 
Breathing thy love for me. 

Virg. Icilius, 

'Twas only yestereve I wandered here. 
The sun was casting forth his fading beams 

22 



VIRGINIA 

In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts 

Were full of peace and thee. And in the light 

Shed by the homing sun — the purple, red, 

And gold — I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions. 

Methought I saw the coming years of bliss, 

Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care ; 

The sorrow of a mortal, and the care 

Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose 

Longings that I might always worthy be, 

As was Eurydice of Orpheus. 

Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared. 

Turn not, stay not, fail not ; a woman in 

My services and steadfast faith, as well 

As my most passionate love. My thoughts are grave; 

Perchance they do accord not with thy mood? 

Icilius. Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony. 
My life and soul, my one bright guiding star. 
Thy lover is a rude and careless man, 
A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs. 
Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee. 
Yet when I look on thy beloved form 
And perfect face, my sins are swept away. 
As is the unclean wrack, upon the shore. 
Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place 
Are left pure pearls and shells and wonders such 
As only dwell where man can never go — 
Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow. 

Virg. Last night I lay awake amid the dark, 
Hearing the music of the fount Avithout 
My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke 
The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering 
Nature and sleeping men. Awake. I dreamed 
Of all the bliss the gentle gods have placed 
"Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea, 

23 



VIRGINIA 

High in my bosom rose the newborn love. 
I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow, 
At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs 
And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart 
Of nesting bird, then gaining courage, grows 
Into a gentle wind until the soul 
Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free, 
Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea. 

[A silence falls, during which a light he- 
gins to break in the eastern sky. 

Icilius. We have outsighed the day ; the rising moon 
Her benediction smiles upon this spot, 
Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia. 

Virg. She signals faintly, from the brightening east, 
To thee, my hero and my love. 

Icilius. One kiss. 
One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia. 
May blessings come to thee with every ray 
From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills 
Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair. 
Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem 
A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon, 
A white Diana of nocturnal glades, 
Yet in the magic of the ardent sun 
I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite, 
A glowing type of passion and desire. 
My love, my full and perfected ideal, 
My Helen and my delicate vEnone, 
My nymph and my incomparable queen 
In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved! 
I would not lose in any sense or thought 
A moment spent with thee, Virginia. 

Virg. (in his arms). Closer, ay, closer, as the days 
go by. 



VIRGINIA 

Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong, 

Each in the other till we are not two, 

A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh ! say 

How close I am to thee, Icilius? 

Icilius. As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem; 

As close as is the rose-flush in the heart 

Of ocean's shell unto the shell itself; 

Close as the star is to its atmosphere; 

Wedded as day and night, no break, no void 

Between, but only faintest change and lights, 

Born of a higher world, a purer sphere. 

Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky. 

[The light visibly brightens, shining down 
upon the two. After a silence they stir 
and slowly walk apart, watching the 
sky. Icilius presently rejoins Virginia. 

Love, thou art weary. Come within and sleep. 
Virg. Nay, I could never weary in thy sight. 

Have I not called thy kisses and embrace 

My wine, my flame, my moonlight and my stars? 

I am not weary. But I'll come within — 

The morrow brings a fresh Elysium. 

Icilius. Oh ! but the night is fair ; behold each rose. 

How tenderly preserves and cups its dew, 

Barely awakened, lifting up its head 

And smiling at the moon. One kiss before 

"We go within. And now, farewell, thou rose; 

Farewell, thou garden of nocturnal dreams 

And noon-day musings. Come, Virginia, 

Let us within. 



25 



VIRGINIA 

Scene IV — Home op Cornelia. 

Apartment spacious and luxurious, with hangings of 
various kinds. Cornelia, who is reclining in an 
arm chair, occupies the center of the room; a female 
stands behind her in the act of arranging her hair. 
On the left is a hoy in rich patrician dress, seated 
beside an oblong bath, engaged in sailing a tiny fleet 
of vessels on the surface of the water. On the right 
are a number of attendants, conversing in under- 
tones. 

Cor. Ah, gods ! I am most sad and most aweary 
Of this routine of state, unrestful splendor. 
My lovers love not me but my possessions. 
My friends are envious of my delights. 
Wretched aristocrats! Unhappy we 
Who call ourselves patricians, and who swear 
Our race is blessed of the most blessed gods! 
Say rather cursed, and with a heavy curse! 
How can I give my heart to those who are 
By noble blood worthy and eligible, 
After the Roman laws, to sue for it? 
Eros with them is but an empty name ; 
Passion and lust and horrible ambition 
Form the emotions of these "blessed" ones. 
And I, unhappy, love with pure desire 
Sicinius, a soldier and a pleb ! 
Yet hath the Ten forbidden intermarriage, 
Just when those bars of difference were about 
To fall away and Heaven ope for me. [To the attendant. 
Sufficient, Julia. 

Julia. Nay, a few light touches 
And thou wilt shine more fair, my lovely mistress, 
Than heavenly Venus in her myrtle bower. 

26 



VIRGINIA 

Cor. (smilingly). But I am dark as night; she as 
the day, 
Thou foolish maid. 

Julia. Believe me, thou in thy 
Rich, languid charm would cast enchantment o'er 
Adonis, as would keep him from the chase 
Where Venus pled in vain. 

Cor. Tut, flatterer! 

Julia (slyly). Methinks I'd make a model lover then 
If I do flatter. Is't not so, sweet lady? 

Cor. (bitterly). Lovers are mockeries in this black- 
ened age. 
A maid may wed the low-souled fool so long 
As he's high-born! The man of noble mind 
Is numbered, if a common, 'mongst the dead. 

Julia (idly). Methinks Sicinius comes here anon? 

Cor. (in displeasure). What! Insolent! Who bade 
thee speak, I pray? 

Julia (softly). Lady, mine eyes are clear and quick 
to see, 
And thy heart's sentinels are slumbering. 
I mean no insolence, by all the gods! 
My motive only love and sympathy. 
I, too, am a plebeian, and rejoice 
To see thy gracious, noble condescension. 
Yet in my joy I well could weep with pain. 
Seeing the darkness of thy doubtful future. 

Cor. Darkness! It is a void as empty as 
My heart this day is full. Begone, I pray. 
Each one of you ; nay, thou, my Julia, stay 
And bid the bards perform a soothing lay. 

[Exeunt maids. Sounds of a harp without 
in soft accompaniment. 

27 



VIRGINIA 

Cor. Tiberius, come hither unto me. 

[The hoy approaches her. 
Now kiss me, child, and talk a space with me. 

Tib. What melancholy broods upon thy brow, 
Curves thy dear lips, and glooms within thine eyes? 

Cor. Brother, thou art too young to comprehend. 

Tib. Mayhap, for I am only twelve years old; 
Yet I'm no dullard, sister, and I weep 
Because I see thee sad. Methinks Sicinius 
Would weep for thee as well. 

Cor. (starting in dismay). Ye gods of love! 
Does all Italia observe my heart. 
Which I had deemed secure within my breast? 
Or possibly (although the gods forbid!) 
My maidens have been gossiping to thee? 

Tib. (disdainfully). No, never; gossip reacheth not 
mine ears. 
But oft I hear thee sigh and then, within 
The selfsame breath, breathe forth a name I know; 
A name all Romans know — Sicinius. 
Ay, and I oft have heard thee sob, although 
I fain had heard it not, since thou desirest 
Thy grief held secret. Sister mine, how canst 
Thou hope to wed a soldier and a pleb? 

Cor. Alas! Alas! Mine own Tiberius! 
No hope have I, and yet I love my strength 
Away — my heart and soul are all aflame 
With a wild conflagration. Boy, thou seemest 
Inclined to comprehend my fierce emotions, 
Bitter despair and strange besieging hope. 
That scarce is conscious hope, but mocked and crushed 
By the stern laws of Rome and tyranny 
Of the false Ten, since ever it was born. 

28 



VIRGINIA 

Thy bright brown eyes are luminous with soul; 
Wise, gentle brother, dost thou weep for me? 

Tib. (sobbing passionately). A curse upon those 
false and dreadful Ten! 
Cornelia, would that I might succor thee ! 

Cor. Most dear, my brother, weep no more for me; 
The gods, who love true lovers, do despise 
Tyrants and murderers, and sure mil aid 
Our cause if we be patient to the end. 
Time is a greybeard, and he will not haste 
At any whim, and Fate, a bigot stern, 
Who acts according to his quick desire; 
He preys on Innocence as well as Guilt, 
And none can change the fashion of his ways. [A pause. 
Now, tell me, wast thou playing mariner, 
But now, and was yon bath a mighty sea? 

Tib. (brightly). I was ^Eneas, our great forefather, 
And I was sailing from our ancient Troy. 
Oft Juno dashed our ships against the rocks 
In spite, because the Trojans she abhorred; 
Yet, by a miracle, lo! I was saved. 

Cor. And didst thou then encounter and escape 
Scylla's dread arms, Charybdis' frightful jaws? 

Tib. Ay, and therefrom lost I three goodly men — 
Two oarsmen and my helmsman. 

Cor. Cruel fate! 

Perchance thou hast survived these perils, so 
Thou mayst give comfort to thy troubled sister. 
Methinks — but what familiar sound is that? 
Surely his voice dismissing his attendant — 
And now a knocking on the outer door ! 
The porter cometh nigh. Tiberius, 
'Tis he! I dreamed not he could come this day! 

Tib. Then I'll begone, sister; give me a kiss; 
I'll seek thee later and relate my voyage. [Exit. 

29 



VIRGINIA 

Cor. Ah ! gods ! I feel as fluttered as a maid 
Of the plebeians might. Thus do I share 
The simple nature of his simple class, 
Through my deep love for him. My haughty mien, 
Patrician dignity, desert me when 
Mine own beloved cometh unto me. 

(Voice of porter without.) Most gracious mistress, 
I await thy pleasure, 
To usher in a visitor to thee. 

Cor. (aside). I must not seem too eager, compre- 
hensive, 
Lest e'en my faithful porter, noting it. 
Let slip without my doors some foolish scandal. 

[To porter. 
Who is the visitor? 

Porter. Sicinius. 

Cor. Admit Sicinius into my presence. 

[Enter Sicinius and porter. 
(Aside.) Dear Heaven! My Love! (Aloud.) Thou 

Gains, to thy post 
Begone! And Julia, do thou too withdraw. 

[Exeunt the tivo. A silence falls. Cor- 
nelia remains seated, a still form, most 
beautiful, endeavoring to calm her lov- 
ing passion, one hand upon her hosom 
and her eyes fixed on the face of 
Sicinius, who stands motionless with 
admiration. 
Sicinius ! 

Sic. What can I say, oh, God ! 
Thou art too fair, thou art too wondrous fair 
For me to break the spell. Awake ! Awake ! 

30 



VIRGINIA 

Dreamer I am not wont to be, save when 
Thy beauty casts a web of visions o'er me. 

Cor. My beauty paleth in the greater light, 
my Sicinius, of thy manhood's worth. 
Awake, indeed, and greet me. I can face 
Thy gaze no longer; art thou turned to stone? 

Sic. (advancing, ivith his arm outstretched in a sud- 
den ivarmth of passion). I turn to stone 
only upon the day 
When I can neither claim nor clasp my love. 
Till then mine arms continue flesh and blood, 
My lips as warm as thine, thou radiant Soul ! 

(Embracing her.) 

Cor. Oh ! stay a space ! Is every curtain drawn ? 

Sic. I do not know, for thou hast dazzled quite 
My goodly eyesight, and I only see 
Cornelia here and there and everywhere. 

Cor. Alas! I fear so greatly for our love; 
Pray Heaven thou lose me not entirely! 

Sic. Nay, rest thee, rest thee, tremble not, beloved. 
The life of Appius will soon be spanned. 
And a great wave of revolution shake 
Rome's center; soon I drop a mighty pebble 
On her dark surface, and the rings therefrom 
Into a rush of water thence shall widen. 

Cor. (partly rising from her chair, her eyes alight). 
The Fates be thanked that now the foul stagnation 
Of Rome, enslaved, is stirring into life ; 
And thine the hand! Thou'rt worthy of the cause, 
Thou patriot and model of a man! 

Sic. Oh ! but I love my city and my race ! 
Thank God that my stern duty lieth on 
The selfsame path as love for thee, my sweet. 
My conscience and my happiness alike 

31 



VIRGINIA 

Demand that I should aim to liberate 

Rome and the Romans from the yoke of men 

Who are defiling and defiled — the Ten! 

[Starts suddenly. 
I came, that I might steal one glimpse of thee. 
The sun is high — I may not tarry more. 

Cor. So soon departing ? AVhither wouldst thou go? 

Sic. Straight to the Forum — then unto the camp. 
The movements of our foemen, the Sabines, 
Are grave. ]\Iethinks I'll soon be called upon 
To enter into active services. 
Farewell, Cornelia! kiss me once again! 
Sweet mistress, noble lady! fare thee well! 

[Exit swiftly. 

Cor. Gone ! Gone ! So swiftly, like an eager shaft 
From Roman bow. Vanished, my gallant love! 
Where shall I see him when he doth return 
To me? May Mars attend and favor him, 
And Victory with laurel wreath adorn 
His earnest brows. Sicinius, farewell! 



32 



VIRGINIA 

ACT III. 

Scene I — A Cloudy Morning est the Forum. 

Busy passmg to and fro of citizens. Enter Cornelia 
and Tiberius, attended hy tivo slaves. The former 
appears embarrassed, fluttered, and distressed, the 
latter troubled and concerned. 

Cor. Gods ! How the people stare upon me, brother ! 
Alas! They reck not of a woman's heart, 
But judge me bold and courting their attention, 
I who am hungry for one gaze alone, 
Yet can not find. So many days have passed, 
No tidings from my love hath reached mine ears. 
And rumors that he's dead hath driven me 
Close unto madness. All my slaves have sought, 
But failed to find him. I am desperate! 
Surely the ears of one who loves will hear, 
Surely the eyes of one who loves will see, 
And learn his fate, whether for good or ill. 
He will forgive me for exposing her 
He loveth to the gaze of multitudes ! 

Tib. Ay, but most likely he was called to serve 
Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes. 
Thy fear it is unfounded. 

Cor. Nay, my child, 
The skirmishing they say is discontinued, 
And all who fought therein returned unto 
The camp, save only those who fell beneath 

33 



VIRGINIA 

The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen, 

And I can rest no longer in my house. 

[While they speak, the already clouded 
sky darkens so rapidly that all start 
and look out across the popidated hills. 
A distant peal of thunder is heard, fol- 
lowed hy a second, greater in volume. 
All press together, then a cry arises: 
"Way, make way! The sibyl of the 
vale would speak! She is inspired!" 
The dense crowd parts and all swing 
backward in confusion. A flash of 
lightning breaks the heavy gloom, fol- 
lowed hy a muttering of thunder. A 
few large raindrops fall. The sibyl 
enters through the multitude, a weird, 
mad form, with tossing hair and wild, 
disheveled garments. 
Sibyl. Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales 

Of sweet Italia ! 

[A murmur and a swaying. Voices con- 
tend for silence. 
Oh ! day of dole ! 

Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day 

Of fever and of tears ! Oh, black despair ! 

The night of tyranny hath settled o'er 

Our city, roof -like shuts her from the air 

Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome 

Of despotism closes o'er our heads; 

Black tyranny and red-hot despotism! 

Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp 

As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web! 

[Another peal of thunder resounds. She 
points toward the heavy clouds. 

34 



VIRGINIA 

My tongue is laden with the vast commands 

Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad. 

The gods cry out upon this tyranny, 

The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands ! 

Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome 

Of Numa and the martial kings of old, 

Is deaf — is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe! 

[With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair 
she vanishes amid the crowd. Great 
agitation now displayed by the ma- 
jority of citizens. Enter a runner. 
Run. Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me ! 
The Git. What is't? Out with it ! Dally not at all ! 
Run. Sicinius, our leader, he is dead! 

[A murmur of horror. 
Gor. (starting wildly forward). Sicinius? Sicinius, 
the pleb? 
Oh ! gods of Heaven ! Ye have struck me hard ! 

[She sinks insensiUe upon the ground. 
Her slaves bend over her. Tiberius 
kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly. 
The Git. How died he? 
Run. It is said by some that he. 
Being sent by the Decemvirs to select 
A spot most suitable whereon to camp, 
Fell into ambuscade and died along 
With several comrades. 

The Git. Slaughtered by the foe ? 
Run. So it hath been reported by the few 
That did escape. [Ee pauses, then proceeds. 

But hearken, citizens! 
The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned 
All toward one — that one, Sicinius. 
The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man ! 

35 



VIRGINIA 

No more. Construe the meaning as ye list; 
I must away. 

[Exit runner. The four citizens, Hora- 
tius, Galba, Marius, and Horteyisius, 
approach the prone form of Cornelia. 
Hor. A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves, 
Can we assist thy mistress, who appears 
In such a piteous and hapless plight? 

Slave ( sobbing). Alas! Alas! I know not what 
to do, 
Or what hath come upon her suddenly. 
Ah ! see, she stirs ! Lady, awake ! awake ! 

Cor. (opening her eyes, but making no attempt to 
raise herself). Those words he used when 
last he came to me. 
Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake. 
But sleep eternally! Sicinius! 

Galba. It doth appear affection did exist 
Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady. 

Tib. Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her; 
But naught was said because they feared the Ten. 
Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear 
Are alien the one unto the other ! 
But rather did he bide his time until 
These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed 
From their most hateful laws and government. 

One of the multitude. Hark to the boy! He is a 

demagogue. 
Another. Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold. 
Parroting sentiments that are not his own. 

A third. And yet he speaks the truth, the naked 
truth. 
See how this woman hath been sadly wronged, 
And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs ; 

36 



VIRGINIA 

For surely they gave orders for the death 

Of him who was a leader and a man ! 

Have they not feared him for these many months, 

Because his tongue is sharper than a sword? 

And these two, a patrician and a pleb, 

Each representing classes now united 

By common misery, are foully hurt. 

And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten. 

Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome 

Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead! 

[3Iurmurs of ''Sicinius is dead!" 
Cor. (moaning as in pain) . Sicinius is dead ! 

Sicinius ! 

[Salter Virginia, followed hy Camilla. 
She espies Cornelia and at once ap- 
proaches. 
Virg. Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray. 

[She kneels beside the fainting girl. 

Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful! 

Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen. 

Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips. 

I knew him well ; he waits for thee beyond 

The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, 

Where heroes find a haven and a rest. 

[She smooths the other's brow in silence 
for a space, and then proceeds. 

Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern 

A friendly face and weep upon my heart. 

She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, 

Press not upon her. Bring a car, slave. 

The lady is unable to return 

On foot. The carriage waits without the place? 

'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself! 

Cornelia, waken ! But look not so cold. 

37 



VIRGINIA 

Thou gentle heart ! relieve the strain of grief 
"With tears of passion. Then come home, come home. 
Cor. (rousing herself). Tell me, who art thou, 

thou noble maid? 
Virg. I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not. 
Cor. Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd? 
Their eyes are knives ; the very air is poison. 
Oh, God! He is not dead? 

Virg. (assisting her to her feet). Come home, sweet 

sister. 
Tib. (sobbing). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me! 
Virg. Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child? 
"Weep not ; assist me with thy stricken sister. 

[As the three, the slaves in close attend- 
ance, are about to make their way 
through the multitude, there comes 
a sudden disturbance, and Marcus 
Claudius springt forward. 
Marc. Ho ! stay a bit, my servant ; stay with me ! 

[He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who 
shrieks aloud in terror. At once the 
four citizens make their way to her side. 
Now by the gods ! I only take mine own. 

Virg. Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens! 
Deliver me from shame ! Icilius ! 
Icilius, my love, where art thou now? 

Marc, (in undertone). Thy struggles, maid, succeed 
in binding thee 
But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover? 
He hears thee not, and thou art my possession. 
Now, still thyself. Gods! Proserpine, thou art 
As strong as is Cybele's lioness! 

Marius. Foul slave ! Loose thou the maid ! Oh, 
insolence ! 

38 



VIRGINIA 

Hor. Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog, 
Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid! 

3Iarc. (panting). Reserve thy threats and play thou 
warily. 
Justice upholds me ! 

The multitude. Justice ! 

Marc, (coolly). Shout less loud, 

Look not aghast, my masters. I will take 
This girl by law — she is my rightful slave. 

Hor. 'Tis false ! 

Marc. Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray! 
Hark! she was born a slave within my house. 
And thence was stolen and declared to be 
The offspring of the man Virginius, 
"Whose wife had borne an infant at the time, 
Wliich on the moment of its birth had died. 
Virginius himself was then away. 
And on returning deemed it was his babe, 
And deems so to this day. I waited long, 
And now have found in this Virginia 
My property. A woman hath confessed; 
The one who stole her thence and fled away. 
Returning but to die within the house 
Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve. 

Gam. Oh, liar ! I first clasped her in mine arms 
When she was born ! Remove thine impious hand ! 
In childhood and in girlhood I have watched 
Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm. 

Multitude. Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose 
thou the maid! 
She is no slave. We know Virginius. 

Marc. Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en 
My life, itself. 

39 



VIRGINIA 

Hor. Which it is like to, dog! 

[He strikes him holdly with clenched fist. 
The client staggers, losing his hold on 
Virginia, who takes refuge with the 
three citizens. 
Mortensius. Where is thine evidence? 
Galha (ironically). Ay, e'en thy word 
Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome. 

Marc, (hissing between his teeth). My word shall 
weigh with you, ye coward curs! 
For lo ! My word is — Appius ! Ah — so ! 

[The mob shrinks backward at the name, 
and Marcus laughs in scorn. 
(Vindictively.) I see it hath a little weight with you? 
' ' Free citizens of Rome ! " Ye make me laugh. 
Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously, 
Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock, 
Save that — save that — ye dare not! Appius 
Would leave not one small particle of this. 
His client, unavenged. Back, all of you! 
The maid is mine ! Ye can not say me nay. 

One of the multitude. But if we threaten thee, or 
bear her off. 
And save her from thy most illegal movements, 
What then? 

Ma7'c. What then? To Appius Claudius 
For justice I would go ! 

[Murmurs of fear are heard on every side. 
(With mocking smile). Lo! now he comes 
Within the Forum. 

[Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decem- 
virs enters. He is seated in a chair 
which is borne by four slaves. 

40 



VIRGINIA 

Appius (frowning sombrely). What bodes this 
tumult? Wlio, yon lovely girl? 

Multitude. Justice ! We would see justice, Appius ! 

Appius. Silence ! and let me hear one voice alone. 
Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have 
An explanation of this strange disturbance. 

Marc. Most noble Appius, I owned this girl, 
Born in my house full sixteen years ago. 
Of my slave-woman. 

Cam. (boldly). Liar! All men know 
Her mother was free-born and wedded to 
Virginius, centurion and pleb. 

Appius. Gag yonder hag, or drag her hence — I '11 have 
No withered woman's voice of spite exclaiming. 

Cam. Thy lietor shall not lay his hands upon me ! 
My place is here. My voice shall speak for her. 
Nor fear thee, king of tyrants and despoilers! 
Long have I inwardly foreseen this day. 
And prayed the gods to change the hand of Fate. 
It seems my prayers are valueless. But still. 
Still there does yet remain to me — my curse! 
And all shall feel its potency who dare 
To lay a finger on Virginia. 

[She faces Marcus Claudius with her arm 
extended and her manner menacing. 
Thou, fool of fools, who ventured to pollute 
The purest virgin breathing in this land. 
Because thou placed thy hand upon her flesh, 
Which is as perfect as her perfect soul, 
I curse thee — ay, and with a heavy curse, 
For that which thou hast done ! Thy misery 
Shall soon exceed even thy trespasses. 
Which in themselves are countless as the stars. 

41 



VIRGINIA 

Be cursed, and live accursed and die accursed! 
And be my witnesses, 0, all ye gods! 

[She turns toward Appius — her attitude 
becomes calm ayid majestic. 
And as for thee — I fear thee not. My curse 
Shall rest on thee according to thine actions. 
This much I have to say — thy tyranny 
And rule of blood is waning to its close. 
Beware, nor haste thy doom before its time. 

Marc, (trembling). Seize on her, some of you, for 
she is mad. 
One of the multitude. Nay, she is gifted with strange 

prophecy. 
She voices Jove. 

[A tumult noiv arises in the background. 
Icilius springs forward with a cry. 
Icilius. Virginia! Turn to me! 

[He faces Marcus Claudius, and with one 
blow strikes him down, then clasps 
Virginia in his arms. 
Virginia (sobbing wildly). And hast thou come at 

last? 
Icilius (tenderly to her). Courage, dear heart! 

[To Appius. 
Now, as a free-born Roman, I demand 
An explanation and a satisfaction! 

[To Marcus, who essays to speak. 
Silence, thou hound, ere I forget myself 
And murder thee! Thine answer, Appius? 
Appius. Lictor, part thou the twain. 
Icilius. Thou canst not, lictor! 
In common manhood and as her betrothed, 
Thus do I hold to her against the world. 
Appius. Then, lictor, strike! 

42 



VIRGINIA 

Virginia. Now, intervene, ye gods! 
Icilius, my love ! Oh ! men of Rome, 
Have ye indeed forgot Lucretia? 

[Swaying of the multitude. Appius 
Claudius rises in his car. 
Appius. Be prudent, ye vi^lio do desire to see 
Full justice. We must hark to every plea, 
And will to-morrow judge the case. Till then, 
Thou, Marcus, guard the maiden, since the man 
Virginius is absent from the town. 

[A hissing protest from the multitude and 
a cry from Virginia follows this 
announcement. Icilius faces the Chief 
Decemvir with blazing eyes, and draws 
Virginia closer. 
Icilius. Over my body only shall yon hound 
Of Hell seize on her. I am yet a man 
With strength to shield or life to sacrifice 
For that which is mine own. Sleep 'neath his roof? 
I'd sooner see her cold upon her bier. 
Or bound upon the wheel of Ixion, 
Enduring tortures of the damned themselves! 
With him? I'd rather cast her to a wolf. 
Who, merciful, would tear her into shreds 
And leave her pure, or o'er Tarpeia's Rock, 
And with mine eyes behold her perfect form 
Shattered upon the kindly stones below. 
Ere Marcus Claudius lay hands on her. 

Marius. Ay, he is right; the maiden yet is free. 
The charge hath not been proven, Appius ! 

Appius. So be it. We will acquiesce thus far, 
But lictors must be stationed as a guard 
About the house wherein she spends the night. 
Lest she escape and law be unfulfilled. 

43 



VIRGINIA 

Cor. (coming forward). I will go thither and attend 
this night 
Upon her. Thou, Tiberius, return 
Home with the slaves. To-morrow meet me here. 

Slave. Lady, thy lips are white and thou art ill. 
See, thou dost tremble. 

Cor. Woman, what of that? 
How canst thou weigh my pallor with her pain — 
The anguish in her eyes? What though I shake 
As with an ague? She herself is turned 
To stone with horror deeper than mine own, 
A living sorrow doth exceed a dead; 
Death to dishonor seemeth merciful. 
Her blow is heavy with the weight of dread. 
Mine light with hope. Did she not succor me? 
How can I fail her in her time of need? 

Appius. Lictors, take into custody yon man. 
Lest he do mischief. 

Icilius. By the almighty gods ! 
Unhand me! I will kill thee, as a man 
Would kill a beast. Ah ! foulest trick to seize 
Upon me from the rear. Oh, God! Oh, God! 

[He sinks helpless upon the stones at Vir- 
ginia's feet, two lictors binding him 
firmly ivith cords. The storm now 
breaks, shrieking in maddest fury, the 
lightning playing over the hills of 
Rome. 



VIRGINIA 



Scene II — A Chamber in the Home op Virginius. 

Midnight and darkness, save where the moonlight shim- 
mers through the columns on the left. Virginia is 
discovered kneeling in the sea of radiance as though 
in prayer. A silence folloivs the rise of the curtain; 
then, low at first, hut louder, clearer, gradually in- 
creasing in volume, a hymn breaks from her lips, 
she kneeling still. 

Hymn to Diana. 

0, thou virgin-goddess fair, 
Look upon me in my sorrow; 
Hear, oh, hear mine earnest prayer! 
Guard me from the fatal morrow! 
Purity is in thy breast 
With thy silver moonbeams drest. 

Still my cheek is hot with shame, 
And my heart in anguish crying; 
Let me keep my spotless name. 
Waking, sleeping, living, dying! 
Chaste Dian, thy stainless glory 
Still resounds in song and story. 

Mount thy car within the blue, 
Waft a whisper to me only! 
Thou a heart hast, strong and true. 
Think upon the maiden lonely. 
Without thee it now would seem ♦ 
Love were nothing but a dream. 

[Cornelia suddenly appears from out the 
gloom hehi^id and puts her arms about 
Virginia's neck. 

45 , 



VIRGINIA 

Cor. Love but a dream ? Ah, no ! The gods f orf end ! 

Virginia. Ah! Thou! [Turns and embraces her. 

Cor. No other than this broken heart; 
Yet is my soul untouched by human woe, 
As thine shall be untouched by human sin. 

Virginia. I see the face, with passion fiery, 
The full voluptuous lips and greedy eyes, 
I see and shudder. 

Cor. Marcus Claudius? 

Virginia. Nay, but the other. 

Cor. I am mystified. 

Virginia. None saw as I saw ! He alone I fear, 
Who on the morrow will decide, dear God! — 
For Marcus — yet not Marcus — but himself; 
Allot me as his own. (Wildly.) I saw his look. 
And felt his power! Marcus is the paw 
"Wherewith great Appius will seize his prey, 
(Laughs.) Virginia, his prey ! He leered on me. 
And in the whitening of his clenched hand 
I marked the clash and clangor of his soul. 
Dear gods ! The feet of Night are leaden shod, 
And yet the precious moments speed too fast. 
Oh, Death! had I the courage that thou dost 
Demand, I'd summon thee. Methinks I hear 
E'en now the distant rustle of thy wings. 
And yet — thou tarriest — thou tarriest. 

Cor. Would Death might choose me out as willing 
prey! 

Virginia. Dear one, thy voice is weary like the world, 
Which is so old and heavy with its years ; 
And yet thine eyes are bright, undimmed by tears. 

Cor. Bright with the pain that kills by slow degrees. 
Ah! for Apollo's pestilential dart, 

46 



VIRGINIA 

Or but to see the shears of Atropos 
Flash in Diana's beams. 

Virginia (softly). We loved her light, 
Thou— thou and I, when love was all in life, 
And those, our own, the twain, Icilius 
And brave Sicinius— " Ah, God! Ah, God!" 
Thus cried he, my beloved, as he sank 
Prone at my feet, a tyrant's prisoner. 

[Breaks from Cornelia's grasp and glides 
in anguish to the curtained doorway 
on the right. 
Icilius! Icilius! Come to me! 

[Enter a lictor — she shrinks hack terrified. 
Lictor. Lady, I must exhort thee to be prudent; 
Such cries will but confine thee e'en more strait 
Than thou art now confined. Silence is best. 
So ordered Appius, our gracious lord. [Exit lictor. 

Virginia (soiling softly). I will be still! But I 
am so afraid, 
I, innocent, know nothing of the world. 
Life-bondage? Nay, methinks I am but mad. 
Severed from him! Ah! lay me in my grave. 
Rather than have my heart torn from my breast. ^ 

[Music is distantly heard. 
Oh ! If to pass in moonbeams from this life 
Mid the pure notes of music stealing on 
Into my brain and sinking in my breast, 
Enveloping my soul; or to the sound 
Of rushing wind — that music of the gods 
Swept by Apollo's hand, or harking to 
The distant murmur of the restless sea. 
Striking its pearly harp of mystic sounds. 
Echoed within the caves where maidens dwell. 
Nereides and Oceanides, 



VIRGINIA 

With faces like the sheen of moonbeams, forms 
Like the white foam their sire, Neptune, makes 
When angered, with his trident! If to sleep, 
Sleeping, to dream, and dreaming, live again 
The years that now lie white upon their bier. 

[The moon vanishes behind a cloud. 
Ah, me! I am so utterly alone! 
The moon hath veiled herself, the silence drear 
Knocks on my heart, unbidden enters in. 
Where once love and sweet innocence, in peace 
Dwelt, all unscarred by a despoiler's hand. 
It is grown cold! What was that sound I heard? 
I am so sunk in solitude, so wrapped 
In vacant space, so chilled, I gasp for breath. 
Like drowning mariner; but for a hand 
Warm, loving, to uplift me from this death 
Among the living, life among the dead! 

Cor. Virginia! Weep or pray, but do not so! 
Alas, Virginia, art thou turned to stone? 

[Virginia, oil uvh earing, turns once more 

toward the columns where the moon 

again shines through. 
Virginia (singing). 
"In the deep dream-light thy bark thou art guiding, 
Shifting thy garments, the clouds, as a sail. 
Rocked o'er celestial waves thou art riding. 
Hiding thy features behind a light veil. 

Dian, the spell of thy muteness cast o'er me. 
Calm the wild tumult which wars in my brain. 
E'er through my life may thine image, before me, 
Shining and constant as ever remain." 

[A silence falls. Virginia steals up to 
Cornelia, ivlio stands weeping alone. 
My comfort hath not been denied me — see, 

48 



VIRGINIA 

The moonbeams bear the message from the sky. 
I hear a song which issues from the stars, 
A song of love and hope for a reunion; 
Re-born, we, who have loved and lost, shall live 
Afar from sin amid the Blessed Isles, 
And walk together, soul with soul, and heart 
With heart; no drop of passionate blood shall be 
Lost in our death, but we shall throb with love. 
And laugh amid the light of suns to be. 

[A pause. Softly a dim gray light steals 
through the columns; the moon is sink- 
i7ig slowly. Cornelia turns in sudden 
terror. 
Farewell, immortal friend, go to thy rest; 
Thy kindly watch is o'er. 

Cor. Virginia, see ! 
Now dawns the cruel day when thou — when thou — 
Ye gods have mercy on us twain this day! 

[Sohs wildly. 
Virginia (pointing to the east). It steals with 
faltering steps and blushing cheeks. 
Call it not cruel; it has wept for me. 
The dew is heavy. 

(Voice of lictor without.) See, it is the dawn. 
Look, comrades! 

Virginia (starting as from out a dream,). 
Ah, Cornelia! Sure, I sleep. 
Is this my father's house? This four- walled cell, 
This prison, and am I Virginia? 
Could it have been but yesterday I woke 
Within this chamber from a happy dream. 
I dreamed of him, my love, Icilius, 
And woke still with his kiss upon my lips. 
I can recall the flood of morning light, 
A billowed sea of light upon the wall. 

49 



VIRGINIA 

I watched the changing pools and shifting waves, 
And smiled; the music of the fount without, 
In rising cadence, played within mine ears, 
And presently the stirring of the maids 
And hum of spinning reached me and I rose. 
Glad, with the day. And now — Cornelia, touch 
My cheek lest I be vanishing to air; 
Feel if my heart yet beats. Methinks I'm dead; 
Even this moment but a roving ghost. 

Cor. Courage, Virginia. Why, much hope is left! 
To-day thy father will return, and he 
Would place his soul in jeopardy for thee. 

Virginia. Courage, ay, courage ! I am brave again. 
It is the dawn. Cornelia, we will seek 
The outer court and wash our tears away 
In the cool fountain. Once again my cheek 
Is hot with spirit and my heart beats swift 
With hope and newborn trust in those I love. 

[Exeunt the two, their arms wound round 
each other and Cornelia's lips pressed 
to Virginia's cheek. 

Scene III — The Forum. 

A tmdtitude has gathered. Appius is in the judgment 
seat, with Marcus Claudius stationed 'beside him. 
Many women are iveeping and the men appear 
silent and angry. Appius is surrounded by a 
guard of lictors. Cornelia and Tiberius are seated 
on the left in a car drawn by slaves. Near the cen- 
ter are gathered Galba, Hortensius, Horatius, and 
Marius. 
Marius. This vast suspense weighs on me heavily; 

I would not see that gentle maiden wronged 

50 



VIRGINIA 

For all my world possessions ! E 'en the gods 
Would shriek with horror if yon slave of Dis, 
Young Marcus Claudius, should seize on her. 
Why doth she not appear? 

Hort. She and her father, 
Who hath returned, hot-foot, from camp to her, 
Tarry about the town, and every man 
They meet they do address with exhortations 
And prayers for justice and for witnesses. 
That this gross tale which men do know is false 
Shall be so proven. Yet all Rome is prone 
Beneath the foot of Appius and his nine 
Vile colleagues. Fear is most tyrannical, 
Justice is dying, Mercy now is dead. 

Marius. Then God alone can help the wretched maid ! 

Hor. (hotly). Nay, shall she be defiled and made a 
slave ? 
Not while my hands are free, my body quick 
With lifeblood, and my heart a man's. Why she 
Is pure and frail as is the mountain snow. 
Happy the man who stands her champion. 
Happy Icilius, our young tribune ! 

[Enter Virginius in mean, pleheian gar- 
ments and Virginia simply clothed in 
white, her dark hair loose. A murmur 
of sympathy and admiration greet 
their appearance, quickly suppressed. 
Enter from the other side Icilius, 
vainly struggling in the hands cf 
armored soldiers. His hair is ivild and 
greatly disheveled, his features white 
and drawn with agony. 



VIRGINIA 

Icilius. Virginia ! Ah, my God ! Virginia ! 
Virginia. My Love! My Love! My Love! 

[He stretches out his hound arms toward 
her, and in a moment with a cry she 
runs to him, regardless of the gazing 
ivorld, and kneeling at his feet kisses 
with fervor the hands in hondage for 
her sake. Murmurs from the multi- 
tude. 
Appius (rising to his feet, his face aflame). Back, 
girl ! Back from him ! Lictor, part the 
twain ! 

[Lictor unwillingly obeys, ivhereat Vir- 
ginia rising slips away from him to 
her father's side. Virginius advances, 
with his hand uplifted, toward the 
judgment seat. 
Virginius. Delay no longer in the trial of 
This matter. We demand in common justice 
A hearing, and at once, 0, Appius! 

Galha (aside to his friends). Mark yonder man 
upon the judgment-seat. 
Methinks 'tis he who coveteth the virgin, 
And Marcus but his instrument. Ah, see! 
The Chief is moved to acquiesce. Methinks 
He fears this pleb as he once feared Sicinius. 

Appius (haughtily). And now begins the judgment. 
Silence, all! 
My client, Marcus Claudius, step forth. 

[The man obeys. Virginia, shuddering, 
looks only at her father. 
Appius. Repeat thy statement, Claudius, we wait. 
Marc. 0, noble Chief, and all ye men of Rome, 
I but reiterate my words to-day 

52 



VIRGINIA 

Spoken in explanation of my course 
Of action yesternoon, A woman came 
Unto the house of Appius, one moon 
Ago, and came to perish on our hands. 
But ere she died she made a full confession 
Of having served in early years the wife 
Of this our citizen, Virginius, 
Who ignorantly hath been foully wronged. 
For whom we feel the deepest sympathy, 
And unto whom I now address myself. 

[Turns to Virginius. 
0, good centurion, this maid is not 
Thy child in blood; but, as I said, was born 
Of a slave woman in my house. Thy babe 
Died on the moment of its birth. Thou wert 
Away in service. Dost thou not recall? 

Virginius (in calm affirmative). Yea, that I do 
recall. (Aside.) Thou fiend of hell! 

Marc, (triumphantly). Has he not said? This 
slave, who did confess 
To us the truth, declared that she had played 
The thief and crept most slyly to my house. 
Stolen the infant of my nurse and slipped 
Out, 'mid the night and gloom, which, friendly, hid 
Her dastard deed. Virginia is the babe. 
And, therefore, lawfully belongs to me. 

Icilius. Ye gods! 

Multitude. No proofs? No evidence? 

Marc, (proudly). My word! 

[Much laughter and some hissing. 

Appius. Silence ! Virginius, speak, and be as brief 
As the occasion will allow. Proceed. 

Virginius. Ye men of Rome ! To you, and you alone, 
I speak in my defense, for lo ! in you 

53 



VIRGINIA 

I see the qualities of common justice, 

Or faintest sense of mercy, which is rare — 

And less, indeed, unto the point in hand. 

For all these forty years I've lived in Rome, 

A Roman 'mongst the Romans, brave amongst 

The brave, and serving, ere I came of age, 

My mother city. Have I shown myself 

In any manner base, corruptible. 

Or lying, either by my word or deed? 

Ye all are witnesses of me — each man 

Can see and know the truth as God can see. 

This is my babe, of me begotten, born 

Of her whom I so loved — her mother. Lo! 

The very luster of her ebon hair 

Bespeaks the woman who in honor bore 

Virginia. See! The tremble of her lip. 

I do not willingly display my flesh 

And blood to gaze of multitudes, but that 

My straits are desperate. Look upon her hand — 

The long, brown fingers are a copy true 

Of these, though mine are knotted by the grip 

Of sword and the guiding of the plow. 

And now her eyes — Ah, no! I say too much. 

Ye gods of Heaven speak for me this day! 

[He hows his head upon Virginia's shoulder. 

Appius. He faints with sudden revelation from 
The gods of what is manifestly true. 
Virginius, thou art deluded, or 
A man, of old, deceptive. 

Virginia. 'Tis a lie ! 
He is Virginius, no more, no less! 
And 'tis enough, as Rome can witness to. 
Thou art not worthy to crawl on the ground 
And kiss the hand which hath these many years 

54 



VIRGINIA 

Battled for Rome! Thou canst but harm our flesh. 
His name and mine are unstained as the flame 
On Vesta's altar. 

[Turns to where Icilius is struggling vainly 
in the hands of the guard. 

Peace, Icilius ! 
Of what avail is aught to such as these? 
Small hope is left — and yet, 0, Appius, 
Wert thou not born of woman? For the one 
Who gave thee life, respect her sisters now. 
Let mercy dawn within thy hardened breast, 
Speak but one word — one word — and many lives 
Will leap and live again. Look down upon 
And honor this grey head, now bowed so low; 
The only stay and comfort in his age 
Wouldst tear from him? His years in solitude 
Will roll away, a never-ending tide. 
Ye Romans, look upon your citizens. 
Protect your women — lest indignant Jove 
Lightnings shall send upon you, or the shield 
Of Mars be taken from its sanctuary. 

[Icilius at this moment breaks from the 
grasp of the soldiers and leaps to Vir- 
ginia's side. The girl lifts his hound 
hands and places them against her 
breast, raising her eyes to his. 

Icilius ! I heard a ringing laugh, 

And saw, as in a vision, a young child — 

Our flesh and blood — our souls' inheritor. 

I saw adorning me, in the strange dream, 

A wedding garland fresh, not clanging chains. 

0, if to die within thine arms ! But stay ! 

My father — see the workings of his face ! 



VIRGINIA 

He suffers. Father, we shall meet again 
In the Elysian fields, when I am free! 

Appius. Fools ! Cease your maudlin tragedy ! Dis- 
perse ! 
Come forward, slave, the judgment hath been passed. 
Cor. (starting). The judgment, and so soon! 
Tiberius (leaping from the car). It is not so! 
Virginia, stay awhile ! 

Icilius (aside). Unbind my hands, Virginia! 
Virginia. The knot is hard and I am dazed. I tremble. 
Love, wilt thou sacrifice thy life for me? 

Icilius. Ah ! some one loose me of these cursed bonds ! 
[He is seized hy the soldiers and again 
forced from the young girl's side. Cor- 
nelia steps from her car, and coming 
forward kneels at the feet of Appius. 
Cor. Lord Appius, behold a broken heart. 
But one with gentle blood from noble veins 
Forever fed. Though proud, I kneel to thee. 
0, loose her bonds — restore her liberty — 
And I my wealth, my house, and e'en my life 
Shall give to thee or this thy servant here. 
Deep down into the dust I do incline 
Myself, who am a lady of the best 
And noblest line in Rome. I offer thee 
My services, if thou wilt free the maid 
"Who did befriend me in mine hour of need. 

Virginia. Cornelia ! To me ! Nay, it shall not be 1 
Thou friend of friends, such sacrifice is vain. 
One kiss alone I ask of thee — one kiss — 
Then silence! See, Tiberius weeps for thee. 

[Tiberius springs with a cry into Cor- 
nelia's arms. The two draw off 
together. The four citizens come for- 
ward. 

56 



VIRGINIA 

Galba. 0, Appius, we offer thee our lives 
To do with as thou wilt — but loose the maid ! 

Appius. Petitioners, ye gods, from every side? 
It shall not be, for she is Marcus' slave. 
The judgment has been passed, and I have spoken! 

{A murmuring. 
Make way! The master comes to take his slave! 

[Confusion. Appius rises, his face ablaze 
with passion. 
Make way, ye fools! I'll call my colleagues here 
With all their lictors. There will be bloodshed ! 
Make way! 

Icilius. Ah! but to have my hands about 
His throat, though for a moment, for a breath; 
Though for a heart-beat and, beyond me, Hell! 

Virginia (in a voice of agony). Father! My father! 
Virginius. Quiet, little girl! 
0, Appius, the final shred of hope, 
The weakened flame, is gone — forever gone. 
Before we part, indeed, one moment grant 
To us aside, that I may speak with her. 

Appius. Haste, then, old pleb ! Nor tarry long for 

tears. 
Virginius. Tears? What are they? My heart is 
dead and barren, 
My soul athirst for death. Tears mean no more 
To me than rain upon a broken stone. 

[He leads the girl aside. All watch in 
breathless silence. 
Virginia. 0, Heavenly Powers above, deliver me, 
By whirlwind or by sword, from this dread place! 
Father, farewell! [Presses his hand to her lips. 

Virginius. Ah! Touch it not! 

[S^iatches a knife from a butcher. 

57 



VIRGINIA 

Thus only can I make thee free, my daughter! 

[He plunges it into her hosom and she falls 
hack into the arms of Icilius, who has 
freed himself and leaps to her side 
with a cry. Tumult and swaying of 
the crowd. 
(Brandishing knife.) With this blood, Appius! thy 

life and thee 
Devote I to perdition! 

[Makes his way with the knife through the 
multitude. Icilius lays her dody down, 
murmuring, "Virginia, by thy blood 
shall Rome be free!" [Exit. 

[Camilla kneels as though stunned beside 
the prostrate body. 
Tiberius. Ah me! Ah me! Virginia! 

[Sinks beside her. 
(Curtain.) 

It rises again to show the collected army, with Virginius 
and Icilius at the head. Appius is about to leave 
the seat, his cloak around his head. Several lictors 
have fallen to the ground. Camilla still kneels 
beside the body, gazing vacantly before her. Vir- 
ginia's dark hair falls like a shroud around her. 

(Curtain.) 



58 



POEMS 



POEMS 



STEWARDSHIP. 

What can I do for Thee, Almighty God, 

Whose breath can wake, whose voice can cahn, the sea? 

Should I endeavor, with this striving brain. 

Which, in its striving, errs, and, erring, turns, 

And, fearful, flies from its appointed field — 

With these weak hands, that blindly grope along 

The road of Truth to higher things, uplift 

Those fallen by the way, whom Thou didst name 

My brothers? I, to the sad, ancient world. 

Speak, in unfaltering accents, of my soul's 

Instinctive yearnings, loftiest ideals, 

And holiest hopes of the fair destiny 

Of all my fellow-souls, who tread the way? 

When One has left a message, sweet, divine, 

Eternal, for the fainting world to read, 

Should I arise and cry, an echo faint, 

Of His all-satisfying tones of Love, 

And lisp my dreams of Truth? I am afraid! 

Yet, trembling, still I dare not to be mute. 

Remembering His vast Love, I can not choose 

But humbly say the lessons I have learned. 

Teach me, God, to feel Thy silences, 

And hear Thy voice aright, in wind and wave; 

Teach me the upward look of Faith and Hope, 

Which lifts, nor ever drags the spirit down; 

Teach me the tender touch and the warm smile 

Of a deep, all-embracing heart, whose light 

Is the sweet essence of true Charity! 

61 



POEMS 



THE SEA GULL. 

Strong-winged soul of the lifting sea, 

Bird of the gale, 
Launch thyself from the crags, and fly 
Over the crested waves, nor sigh 

For the sheltered home, but gladly hail 
The sea and the open sky! 

High, low, high, low, 

Over the foam. 
Gliding level with the mast. 
Darting close above the vast 

Roll of billows — then come home. 
And hide thee from the blast. 

Once again, thy pinions free 

Spread to the speaking breeze ! 

Forward, like a mermaid light. 

Onward, like to a soul as white 

As the curling foam of the singing seas, 

Nor shrink from the coming night. 

Rolling fog and fading light, 

Spread and sail! 
Fold thy pinions, breast the deep. 
In the darkness, Spirit, sleep. 

Soul of the gale! 



62 



POEMS 



MT. VERNON. 

Home of the Dead! One glance of lingering love 
We cast behind us, where our vessel's wake 
Winds, foaming, backward to Virginian hills. 
Home of the Dead ! Retreating from thy shores / 
We breathe a final sigh, a last farewell. 
The pillared mansion gleams amid the green. 
The sombre tomb, deserted, stands alone; 
While, over all, a thousand beacons burn. 
The West displays a canopy of sky, 
Woven by angels, flung across the hills. 
Where sleeps the silent dust of Washington. 

Bleak is the wind that leaps like blade unsheathed 

From out the silver scabbard of the East! 

At hide and seek, among the ruffled waves. 

The eerie shadows play in elvish glee. 

A thief. Night steals the golden glories bright 

Of Day. But still a flush of silken rose 

Colors the West, stains the broad river's breast. 

And casts a garland 'cross the Eastern sky. 

Behold, on either shore, reflected green, 

Dim in the dying lustre of the sun, 

While tips of rose, like diadems, adorn 

And wreathe the gracious brows of drowsy hills. 

Behold and marvel! See and comprehend! 

Amid this beauty lies the sacred dust 

Of one who was a hero and a man, 

While all the hills that sleep about his tomb 

Shine with the glory of God's holy light. 



63 



POEMS 

MY MOTHER. 

Has she faded from my skies forevermore, 

Like a star that slides adown the arch of Night, 

Or the sunlight, swiftly paling on the shore 

Of my boundless sea of hopes, that glittered bright 

In the lustre of her smile? Is she gone forevermore? 

Or has she but departed for a while? 

Shall I never feel her hand upon my brow? 

Shall I never meet her lips in kisses sweet? 
Or is it that I am denied her now, 

And some day shall hear the music of her feet, 
And, like Proserpine, will come, with the happy winds 

that blow, 
Leap the years, and find, in her, my final home ? 

THE CRADLE SONG. 

Adown the vista of the years, 
I turn and look with silent soul. 
As though to catch a muted strain 
Of melody, that seems to roll 
In tender cadence to my ear. 
But, as I wait with eyes that long 
The singer to behold — it fades. 
And silence ends the Cradle Song. 

But when the shadows of the years 

Have lengthened slowly to the West, 

And once again I lay me down 

To sleep, upon my mother's breast. 

Then well I know I ne'er again 

Shall cry to God, "How long? How long?" 

For, to my soul, her voice wnll sing 

A never-ending Cradle Song. 

64 



POEMS 



OUT OF THE DARK. 

Out of the Dark that shrouded Thee, my Lord, 
Upon that day of Passion and of Pain, 
There rose a cry from Thee which rent the sky, 
Piercing the shadows of the noontide gloom 
In vibrant tones that rang with agony 
Supreme, and, with the strength of holy grief. 
Divine despair, rolled upward on the wings 
Of Mystery unto the eternal Throne — 
"Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" 

Out of the dark that lies about my soul, 

Upon this day of sorrow and of pain, 

I lift mine eyes and gaze with prayerful heart 

Upon the tortured image of my Lord, 

Then lo! the sombre shadows melt away, 

And round my spirit glows a wonderous light. 

By thine own Cross and Passion, blessed Lord, 

And by that mystic moment of despair. 

Thy world shall never know Thine awful Woe, 

Nor cry to God in agony supreme — 

"Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" 



65 



POEMS 
NIOBE. 

(Dedicated to the statue of Niobe, in the Uffizi Palace, Florence, Italy.) 

Oh ! form of perfect woe, in grief unending ! 

Soul-anguish, mortal pangs, in marble moulded! 
Oh, sobs! by us unheard, that bosom rending! 

Oh, tender form! within those arms enfolded! 

With heart undaunted, has the Mother striven 

Against Death's vengeance, e'en within its portal; 

And when her soul with horror most is riven. 

Woman, she dares to face the wrath immortal. 

So, through the ages, see those forms united 

In an eternal clasp. Ah, woe transcendent! 

Upon that face, its beauty all unblighted, 

We read the Mother-love, supreme, resplendent! 

TO THE GENIUS OF DEATH, BY CANOVA. 

Genius of Death! Thou form as white and slim 
As moonbeams, falling through the awful dome 
Above thee when the deathlike night draws down; 
Speak, through those sweet, still lips, whose solemn 

curve 
Alone gives token of thine ancient, dread 
Supremacy! Say that thou art not Death, 
But holy Calm or silent hushed Repose. 
Still are thy stern lips dumb, no hopeful breath 
Exhaling ! Then, from them, do I appeal 
To something more divine. O'er that calm brow 
And carven face, uplifted from the tomb 
In speechless faith, there shines a wondrous light 
That mocks the awful declaration there. 
Genius of Death thou canst not be, for lo! 
Thou art the Soul of Immortality! 

66 



POEMS 



TO THE WINGED VICTORY OF SAMOTHRACE. 

"Winged Victory?" Unworthy is that name, 

Thou marble miracle of endless Time! 

I see thee standing yonder in the light, 

Upon thy rude and lonely pedestal, 

A shape as strange as it is beautiful. 

To me, thou art a winged mystery. 

For where, in all the ages of the past. 

Years of the present, centuries to come. 

Can there be found creation like to thee, 

Conceived by God or Man? A miracle; 

Marble in motion — yet divinely still, 

As though it paused to hear its own low breath — 

Yet breathes not; pacing on its lonely height — 

Yet stirs not; heavenly wings outspread, with chaste 

Angelic curve — yet not in flight extended. 

Thou art not of the living nor the dead. 

Thy wings do breathe of immortality, 

Of Heavenly Presence, yet thy headless form, 

In all its marred and mutilated grace. 

Points to the clay. How can we solve thee, then? 

Enigma so profound was never known 

Among the many countless works of Man, 

Thou art incarnate Mystery itself. 

Brooding above the world; the Universe 

Lies in the shadow of thine outspread wings — 

Thou silent Spirit of the Infinite! 



67 



POEMS 
BEATRICE TRIUMPHANT. 

(To Beatrice Cenci, as she is depicted in Guido Reni's painting of 
St. Michael and the Dragon.) 

Gold hair, blown back from radiant brow, 

Crowning, like light, a maiden, martyred head, 

Feet planted on the "Dragon," prone. 

And mighty wings in victory outspread. 

In thee what change, divinely wrought! 

What wondrous resurrection from the dead! 

He lies, beneath thy righteous feet. 

Who, cruel craven, caused thee to be slain; 
He writhes who let thee agonize, 

A captive and in undeserved pain, 
And crawls, in sight of all the world. 

Forever rendered loathsome by that stain! 

And thou, bright dream of brooding light. 

With woman's face and angel's stature, thou 

Exquisite seraph, fresh from God, 

Tell me, why wakes no awful vengeance now 

On thy grave lips? Oh! Woman, wronged. 
Unfold the mystery of that calm brow! 

THE CALL OF THE IRISH SEA. 

Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, 

That spreads so free, gray Irish Sea — 

Your freedom mocks the shores you beat 

With the boomiug tread of your angry feet; 

The Celtic heart no longer sings 

To the rhythmic rush of Freedom's wings! 

Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, 

Chant Freedom 's dirge, wild Irish Sea ! 



POEMS 

Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, 
You call to me, gray Irish Sea, 
I hear the harp-strings of the North, 
And stirring bagpipes thrilling forth: 
I dream the dreams of olden days, 
I hear bold Ossian chant his lays! 
Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, 
You call to me, wild Irish Sea! 



THE LION OF LUCERNE. 

Hid in a hushed retreat, a lovely dell, 

Where Mother Nature sings low lullabies. 

And weaves her silence like a sacred spell. 

Beneath the light of deep and tender skies. 
In his lone agony the Lion lies. 

Colossal creature of a sculptor's brain. 

Are you the marble that you seem to be? 

Inanimate, untouched by mortal pain? 

Within that form, and yearning to be free. 
Your soul must wrestle with Death's mystery! 

There is a height Self-sacrifice may climb. 

Nearer the throne of God than any star, 

A height above the wasting tide of Time, 

Beyond the din of Earth's discordant jar — 
A height that untried souls scarce see afar. 

On that great height the Lion of Lucerne, 

With face half-human, with majestic brow. 

Lies stretched. Oh, Love! that will forever burn 
On Pain's dread altar, you alone can know 
The glory and the recompense for Woe! 

69 



POEMS 

SONNET TO NIAGARA FALLS. 

As on the brink of that which men call Death, 
Standing 'twixt Time and dread Eternity, 
We pause to gaze with fear-suspended breath 
On that abyss, whose depths we can not see, 
So now, I stand, above thy thundering fall. 
Thou Miracle, of marvels most supreme. 
Who summons all the world, with trumpet call. 
To adore the heavenly genius of thy stream ! 
In 'wildering confusion, mad disdain 
Of earthly trammels, earthly tyrannies, 
Shrieking, like legions of damned souls in pain, 
Roaring rebellion 'neath the silent skies, 
Fearful as Death, still thou dost seem to cry, 
" I am the symbol of Eternity ! ' ' 

THE LOST HEART. 

(A Bondeau.) 

Where is my heart ? Ah ! Love, I dare not say, 
I only know that it is hid away. 
Somehow, — somewhere, — and somewhat restless there. 
But safely hid away, — poor heart, somewhere. 

I strive to call it back to me, but nay, — 
That willful heart refuses to obey. 
And do you ask, thus, in your sad, sweet way — 
You, Love, who know so well its secret lair, 
Where is my heart? 

Alone, I wait and wonder, day by day, 
At the poor, pulsing heart, that went astray. 
Once, in the mazes of a woman's hair. 
Could it forsake a labyrinth so fair? 
No need for you to ask, for me to say — 
Where is my heart? 

70 



POEMS 

IS HE NOT MINE ? 

Is he not mine ? Although he drift from rae 

Into the Ocean of the Far Away, 

Across the tideless and the awful sea 

Of Time, while I alone must mutely stay 

Within the doorway of a darkened Day ; 

Although he shake the dust from his light feet, 

Dust of my warm Heart's Garden, yet I hold. 

My Love forever, radiant, complete. 

He breathes upon me when spring buds unfold. 

He smiles upon me from the roses ' gold ; 

I hear him in the tender melody 

Of mating bird; his laugh rings, glad and free. 

In every breeze; like stars his dear eyes shine; 

His spirit is a presence, half-divine. 

Which clasps, enfolds my being like a sea ! 

Is he not mine? 



TWO GIFTS. 

She laughingly gave me a rose, one day, 
And the thorns were sharp, — but the rose was red. 

And fragrant and warm from the sun's bright ray. 
So I clasped the rose, though my fingers bled, — 

And it fluttered in petals away. 

She mockingly offered her heart, one day. 
And I clasped what she gave, though my own heart bled, 

I gazed in her eyes, and her soft hair lay 
On my lips, and I laughed, — though the heart was dead. 

And crumbled to dust away! 



71 



POEMS 
THE MOONFLOWER. 

Earth star of the evening, full moon of the twilight, 
Pale soul of the dusk, like a virgin in white, 

With slow graceful motion, so stealthy, so silent. 
She opens her heart to the kisses of night. 

Chaste blossom, ah ! thus, when my own Love approaches, 
And bends o'er my spirit with fervor divine. 

Thus would I lay bare, in unbounded devotion, 

A heart pure and tender and fragrant as thine ! 

THREE KISSES. 

A rampant wind, on a golden day. 
Sported and played with a wild, wild rose. 
He woke her soul from its mute repose. 
He kissed the heart of the wild, wild rose. 
And, kissing, — kissed her leaves away, — 
And now the wind goes sighing. 

Love won me, on a golden day. 

He woke my soul, with a kiss sublime. 

And the whole world vanished, and Death and Time 

Seemed nought at the touch of that kiss sublime ! 

Love, kissing, — kissed my heart away. 

And now Love goes rejoicing. 

An Angel came, on pinions gray. 

In his cold, white arms he clasped my Love! 

Earth reeled, the sun went out above. 

Oh ! God ! I saw Death kiss my Love, 

And, kissing, — kiss his soul away — 

And now my soul goes wailing ! 

72 



POEMS 

A SONG OF THE WEST. 

Into the glowing West! 
And lo! the vast and sunburnt plains unfold, 
An endless, rippling, tideless sea of gold, 

Our own dear Mother's breast; 

The gaunt, the silent earth, 
The bare, brown land without a single tree 
Or blossom as a home for bird or bee, 

It lies, endures the dearth, 

And smiles in spite of thirst 
And parched and craving lips. This is the best, 
The better land, my own, my noble West. 

Into the West ! 
Green, verdant with the strength of endless light, 
Immortal sunlight, radiant and bright ! 

Where man may work, may rest: 

This is my paradise, 
A land of flowers and of singing seas. 
Of hoary mountain tops and giant trees. 

Beneath vast arching skies. 

Skies that are eloquent 
With sympathy and soft, and deep and true, 
Gray only when we weary of the blue, 

Cloudless and all content. 

Into the West ! 
That mother of great men who sing her praise, 
Who marvel o'er her miracles and ways. 
As free and unsuppressed 
As ocean's roll. 
Say, 0, ye creatures of the further sea, 
What know ye of her grace and melody. 
The grandeur of her soul ? 

73 



POEMS 



TO ESTHER. 

As Night, before the dawn, 
In starry splendor, seems to brood 
Above the world, which waits the morn. 
Yet worships Night in melancholy mood, 
As Night, in whom a solemn passion lies, 
So brood and beam my Esther's midnight eyes. 

As sunlight on a rose 
In flashing radiance seems to glow, 
Warming the tender heart within, 
To life and love ; as early beams bestow 
Upon that rose a soul which can beguile 
A hundred hearts, so beams my Esther's smile. 

As love-birds, in the Spring, 
Sing on the sylvan boughs at noon, 
And mating-calls in echoes ring, 
Or oft at night they whisper to the moon ; 
As stream responds to stream with tender art, 
So, to mine own, replieth Esther's heart. 

As sea to distant sea, 
In grand response to Passion's cry. 
Declares its own vast mystery, 
And answers wild entreaties with a sigh ; 
As waves to waves melodiously roll. 
So sings to me forever — Esther's soul. 



74 



POEMS 



THE THRUSH. 

[t was the Thrush, — it was the joyous Thrush, 
Who, with his beauteous voice, the woods addressed! 
He sank from heavens unseen, and in the hush 
Of floating fragrance and soft-slumbering flowers, 
Dozing beneath the spell of sun-bright hours, 
His summer shower of song the glade's deep heart 
caressed. 

Bright, speckle-breasted, angel-throated bird! 
He tilted on the hedge, and piped and wooed ; 
Now here a note, now there, so low 'twas heard, 
Ofttimes, by one deep listening ear, one only. 
The ear of Silence ; he, her minstrel lonely. 
Was it for her divine mute blessing that he sued? 

How often I have watched him in the grass, 
Familiar, small, erect, and bravely dressed 
In spotted golden-brown ; have seen him pass 
Alertly to and fro, all blithely springing. 
With elfin bounds; no longer wildly winging; 
Content with Mother Earth, as though he loved her 
breast. 

Earth born, sky destined, living harp of song. 

Beloved Thrush, pour forth your notes divine! 

Whether to earth or heaven you most belong. 

What the vast purpose of your melody. 

Your mystic glory, your bright ecstasy, 

I know not, — only this, your soul is sweet to mine. 



75 



POEMS 

THE LIGHT OF THE STAR. 

Dank were the grewsome alleys of the town, 

Dingy the houses of the dreary street ; 
The very dogs reflected degradation, 
Gaunt, wolfish; while God's flowers of creation, 

Young children, lacking all that makes life sweet, 
Through the foul-smelling night ran up and down. 

Under a dull street light I watched them play. 
Shrilling in high-pitched and unchildlike tones, 

Daring the perils of the tainted city. 

Then, in my heart, the horror and the pity 

For human kind that in such blackness groans 

Rose, and I could not drive the pall away. 

Amid such concrete evils, inbred sin, 

I, groping, questioned, could Christ's kingdom come, 
By any means? How could he ever enter 
At wealthy portals strong, where self is center. 

Or at the darkened doors of spirits dumb, 
Dulled by the ancient slums' unceasing din? 

But, glancing upward, in my deep distress — 

i\Iyself so small an atom of my race — 
I saw, above the dreadful hovels shining, 
A single star. It seemed, my pain divining, 

To answer from illimitable space, 
And with its rays to sanctify and bless. 

Witness it bore of Law by which worlds move, 

Light of the Soul, the Everlasting Mind, 
Which — in its compass Earth and Heaven holding — 
Is ever like some shining scroll unfolding, 

And will unfold with Time, till all mankind 
Shall read Life's one solution, perfect Love. 

76 



POEMS 



THE MESSAGE OF THE PINES. 

Tall Southern pines, with hearts of mystic throbbing, 
Stretch your restless, weary boughs across the sunset 

sky, 
Dark Southern pines, whose souls are ever sobbing, 
I would roam through these dim aisles and learn the 
music of your sigh. 
Hark ! the wail of hearts that can not weep ! 
Hush ! the sigh of souls that long to sleep ! 

Tall Southern pines, I seek these silent places 

Only in my memory — a memory beside me moves. 
Dark Southern pines, I love your solemn spaces. 

And there in spirit walk, and with her spirit seek the 
quiet groves. 
Hark ! the moan of human hearts that yearn ! 
Hush! the plaint of dreams that would return! 

Tall Southern pines, I wrong you in my sorrow. 

Harps divine, you chant a dream not passed, but yet 
to come! 
Our two souls shall walk together, on some perfect 
morrow. 
And through the years remain together, when your 
voices all are dumb. 
Hark ! her spirit whispers in the grove ! 
Hush ! I feel the presence of my Love ! 



77 



POEMS 

THE LOST SUNBEAM. 

Through fairy green of willows old, 
Aslant the stately, virgin, cold 

Form of the sycamore, 
Where poplars laugh, where beeches pray, 
Where breezes sigh, where streamlets sing, 
And birds are ever caroling, 
One morn, I saw a sunbeam stray; 
This single, holy, radiant ray 
On the wide earth had lost its way. 
Escaped through Heaven's half -open door. 

"Where will the sunbeam find its home?" 
I idly wondered. "Will it roam 

Until it makes its nest 
Perhaps in some dear baby's hair?" 
But no! a baby's tresses shine 
With their own radiance divine — 
The sun of Heaven is always there. 
Or would it find a secret lair 
In flowery heart? Nay, in that rare, 
Deep cell, God's sun long found its rest. 

So the lone sunbeam strays at will, 
And longs for Heaven and rest, until 

Into the silent grove. 
An old man, crippled by disease, 
Creeps down the path, with weary eyes, 
That are too worn to seek the skies, 
With palsied limbs and shaking knees, 
And fixed, dull stare, that only sees 
The stony ground. Oh ! stately trees ! 
Shade this drear form with arms of love ! 



78 



POEMS 

As he pursues his lonely way 

Through the green wood, the shining ray 

Straightway appears to dart 
To that bent form, and seems to light 
A glory in the thin white hair ; 
Then, restless still, it makes its lair 
In the sad eyes, so dim of sight. 
And, smiling through the sombre night. 
It deeper sinks, a radiance bright, 
And nestles in the old man's heart. 



HERITAGE. 

(To my Mother.) 

Everything beautiful centered in you! 

All that is fair, in your spirit, my Sweet, 
From the depths of the sea to the height of the blue, 

Lies now at my feet. 

They are gems, they are gems you have scattered so free. 
From your zenith of thought they have fallen like 
rain. 

From the height of your love they descended to me, 
In the midst of my pain ! 

Thoughts like the ocean and dreams like the morn. 
Pure and unsullied, most holy and true; 

Dear Love, in my being there shines a new dawn, 
Whose light is from you! 



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